


Boyfriend #8

by deductress



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Captain (Ghosts 2019), M/M, Protective Havers, Sensory Overload, The Captain is Autistic (Ghosts TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deductress/pseuds/deductress
Summary: Being as he was, the Captain was well accustomed to having to apologise for his behaviour to his various romantic partners over the years – the amount of apology dinner dates, flowers and ‘I’m Sorry For Embarrassing You’ chocolates he’d had to invest in could likely fund someone through a degree at this rate. Possibly a doctorate.
Relationships: The Captain/Lieutenant Havers (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	Boyfriend #8

Being as he was, the Captain was well accustomed to having to apologise for his behaviour to his various romantic partners over the years – the amount of apology dinner dates, flowers and ‘I’m Sorry For Embarrassing You’ chocolates he’d had to invest in could likely fund someone through a degree at this rate. Possibly a doctorate.

Now, at the grand old age of 43 (as his knees liked to dully remind him on a daily basis), the Captain – it seemed – was still quite capable of humiliating himself in front of others. Unfortunately this time, Lieutenant William Havers had also been with him.

They’d only started dating a few days ago; a soft cautious request for dinner offered by the Lieutenant. The Captain had been shocked at the offer – while he’d been attracted to the Lieutenant the moment he entered base, the Captain had been under no illusions that the man liked him back. But it seemed the Lieutenant was full of surprises, such as when he’d realised the restaurant Havers had chosen was one that served a cuisine he actually enjoyed. No need to pretend to actually like the texture or flavour of the food. (That was one he’d learnt early on – his first boyfriend openly cringing at him when he’d attempted to futilely separate the food given to him, to prevent each item from touching and to corner off the textures he disliked. Samuel had scowled at him, muttering hastily “Stop doing that, it makes you look weird. I don’t want people thinking I’m dating a freak.” From then on, the Captain had let his food touch, and learnt how to move his fork around in the food enough to make it look like he’d eaten enough of it to be socially acceptable. Ignoring his rumbling stomach in the meantime.)

The Captain had managed three full days of acting normal in the Lieutenant’s presence, and then he’d had a mortifying meltdown in public while they’d been sightseeing in the nearest city. Everything had started fine, but as the day wore on – so did the Captain’s energy, draining with each forced smile and fake conversation as they wandered around the open market. Eventually he’d fallen completely silent and let William take the lead, better that than him saying something stupid and making William already regret being involved with him.

By lunchtime, the marketplace was busy – too busy. Crowded and loud, bodies nudging carelessly against his own, voices overlapping each other as sellers fought for buyers’ attention. He could feel the ball of anxiety gathering in his gut, but again did his best to maintain a neutral expression. (This had been learnt from boyfriend #3: James; who had dragged him into a public bathroom, waiting until they were alone before demanding he “sort [his] face out”. When the Captain had asked what he meant, James had stated he looked terrified and it was a pathetic thing to see on a man of his age. “Stop flinching at every little noise!” James had fiercely ordered. The Captain hadn’t been able to obey his commands and their involvement had ended shortly after. With practice, however, the Captain had managed to conceal his anxieties, hide away his reactions and uphold the façade that everyone expected to see.)

When the surrounding roar of activity heightened as people queued for local produce for their lunches, the touches become more frequent and (what felt) more invasive. He felt like he was being crushed against the swarm of bodies, his skin burning with a sensation not unlike that of thousands of ants crawling their way towards his vulnerable face and torso. It felt like a pressure was building inside him, urging him to find somewhere to hide – somewhere quiet where he could be alone and safe. The desire caused his head to thump painfully as he fought to ignore it, to maintain his veneer of normalcy. Fists shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers as his nails bit into the soft flesh of his palms, likely drawing blood but still not quite enough pain to ground him and settle his erratic breathing. He had to pass as one of them. He couldn’t show them how much this all hurt.

When one final body brushed unthinkingly against his own, the Captain was unable to prevent himself from curling his shoulders over himself protectively – his hands reaching up to cover his ears as he stopped abruptly in place, the irritated grunts of the people behind him forced to stop also distantly reaching him as his meltdown hit him full force.

One moment he felt like the world was spinning, racing around him and doing its damnedest to drown him under the overwhelming expanse of it all – the blinding sun shining down on them tortuously, the wall of voices scratching at his brain, the thick cloying smell of freshly cooked meats – threatening to drag him under, make him beg for a relief on his senses.

Next, he felt his back pushed against the secure steadiness of a tree – one hand clasping his shoulder, grip alternating between firm and soft as if the owner was unsure what the best choice would be. With the awareness of the tree at his back, and the grip on his shoulder – he then became aware of the lack of bodies crowded around him and the considerably dulled echo of voices.

Not quite ready to remove his hands from around his ears just yet, the Captain cautiously popped one eye open followed by the other as his gaze followed the hand upon him – up the arm to the face of one William Havers.

_Good lord, I’ve done it again haven’t I?_

Having a meltdown in front of his current romantic partner seemed to be a tradition of sorts now, not normally quite so soon into the beginning of their relationship of course, but it always happened nonetheless. Boyfriends 1-7 had all split up with him upon first experiencing that wonderful aspect of the Captain’s autism. Despite telling all of them quite clearly after they showed romantic interest in him – _I have autism, I do my best not to let it affect my day-to-day but please be aware there are some elements of my condition out of my control._ All had said they understood, that they weren’t bothered by his condition as it was a part of him. _Ha_ , boyfriend #6 had even been a part-time educational psychiatrist – stating that he dealt with students with autism all the time; that he was more than qualified to handle any sensory overload the Captain might experience. He’d then went on to abandon the Captain in the middle of a shopping centre after he’d had a meltdown, the Captain had come to full awareness to realise he was alone and had never heard from the man again.

And here he was again. Making a fool of himself, publicly. Worse, humiliating William. Day four of their relationship, day four. The Captain doubted his usual apology dinner date would cover this one. Still, he should at least try to apologise – ruining the Lieutenant’s day, he deserved some level of regret from the Captain.

“I must apologise,” he began, weary beyond belief and just wishing he could be home, wrapped up in his favourite blanket and clutching his favourite antique military crop. (Stimming; that had been outlawed by boyfriend #5 when he’d caught the Captain trying to slip his crop into his pocket for the trip to the pub. It had been a Friday night and the Captain knew the noise and clamour would cause him to overload, better he have his crop so he could stim out his anxiety and not act improper. Darren had sneered at him in disgust, “What are you, a child? You need a comfort item with you everywhere you go? Man up.” The Captain had never brought his crop anywhere outside with him from then on. Instead choosing to stim discreetly by bouncing and rocking on his feet – people tended to overlook that one.)

“I’ll pay for your taxi home,” he continued in the present, gradually letting his hands slip down from his ears – aware he was likely attracting judgemental stares with his unusual behaviour, “You don’t need to speak to me again, I understand. I’m sorry to have ruined your day.”

While he’d been apologising, the Captain had found himself unable to make eye contact with the Lieutenant, too shamed with his conduct and feeling any eye contact might cause the vulnerability in him to rear its ugly head once more and set him off into a second meltdown. He didn’t think he had the energy left to go through a second one today. Best he keep his eyes on the tree across the grass, and wait for William to leave.

“What are you talking about? You haven’t ruined my day-why would I not speak to you again? I don’t understand,” William rushed out in one great sentence; his tone warring between utter confusion and outright concern, “Don’t think about that now, yeah? Just take a few minutes. Is this quiet enough, or would you like to move further away? Is it alright I’m touching you? Or do you not like being touched?”

Dazed by the Lieutenant’s outpouring of words, the Captain’s exhausted mind struggled to parse through the man’s questions to find what William expected him to respond with, “I don’t-”

Frowning with fatigue, the urge to collapse where he stood was becoming more attractive by the second – only the want to not humiliate William any further kept him standing, “I’m sorry,” he repeated tiredly, “I don’t mean to be like this.”

“What do you mean? Like what?” William’s soft voice enquired cautiously, grip on his shoulder still varying between gentle and hard almost like an involuntary spasm.

“Retarded,” the Captain replied simply, echoing what boyfriends 1-7 had called him at some point in their short relationships.

“You’re not-please don’t use that word for yourself,” William asked, tone fierce and yet almost sounding wounded also, “You don’t need to apologise for anything. I should have thought about how busy it was getting. I guess I was enjoying myself too much.”

With his averted gaze, the Captain missed the burgeoning smile building on the Lieutenant’s lips, instead focusing on the idea that he had once again ruined the man’s day when he had been having a rather splendid morning, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop.”

This time, William’s strong tone brooked no argument, causing the Captain to raise his gaze warily to meet the other’s – steeling himself to see revulsion or hatred, instead stunned to see hurt and worry in its place upon the Lieutenant’s handsome features.

“Stop apologising. You have nothing to apologise for. It should be me apologising, for not thinking,” William ordered, tone soft as his warm gaze melted the ice shielding the Captain’s heart, “Now please tell me, is it alright that I’m touching you? You can say no, I won’t mind.”

“I-It’s fine,” the Captain stuttered, suddenly feeling off balance in their conversation – this was not something he’d experienced before, and as such had no frame of reference for how he should respond or how he should act, he hated not knowing what was expected of him, “B-but… Firm, if you please. Light touches… hurt.”

The grip on his shoulder firmed in reaction to his request, William nodding in acknowledgement, “Are you okay to walk? There’s a taxi rank not far from here, we could get you home in ten, maybe fifteen, minutes I should think.”

Unable to identify how he should answer, the Captain merely nodded – forcing his feet to start moving as he dazedly followed the Lieutenant’s guidance, the man’s hand having slid from his shoulder down to his hand – fingers twining with the Captain’s, grip strong and almost, protective, in a way.

The ride home went by in a blur as the Captain struggled to keep himself awake and aware, fatigue pulling his eyelids down only for him to snap his spine back up and force his eyes wide open. Something he’d learned as a teenager, pre-dating: don’t fall asleep after a meltdown, no matter how exhausted you are, waking up in an unfamiliar place at night-time had been utterly terrifying. He’d genuinely worried he would die that night; walking around aimlessly as he tried to find a street he identified in order to find his way home. When he’d finally made it home, the next morning, his father had sneered at him in greeting, “Shame. I’d been hoping you weren’t going to come back.”

When they arrived at his house, William carefully took the keys from his clumsy fingers and led them both into the building, “Do you want to go to your bedroom? Or do you have another room you prefer?”

“I, I should make us tea I suppose,” the Captain realised faintly, best he keep to social norms; least he could do for the Lieutenant was make him a tea as thanks for bringing him home, for not just leaving him against that tree. Alone, “Or do you prefer coffee?”

“Do _you_ want a tea?” William asked, tone doubting, “You look exhausted. I think it better you lie down.”

“Bedroom,” the Captain conceded, weakly stumbling down the hall to the specified room and falling gracelessly on his bed – too tired to think any further on how many more social rules he was breaking in that moment as he reached out and picked his crop up from where it rested on his bedside cabinet.

Holding the crop close to his chest, the Captain sighed in relief as his body melted against the mattress – finally able to relax and let the tension rush from his body.

He jolted when he felt the welcome weight of his duvet being pulled over him, suddenly remembering that William was indeed still present and hadn’t yet left, “Do you want your weighted blanket on?” William’s voice quietly rumbled.

Blearily, the Captain realised the Lieutenant wasn’t laughing at him for having a weighted blanket (memories of boyfriend #3 laughing and mocking him rolled through his mind distantly), he even seemed aware of its use and was respectful enough to ask if he needed it or not.

“Y-Yes please,” he stammered, a blush warming his cheeks – he’d never had anyone do this for him before. The kindness and concern felt foreign to him. Why hadn’t William left him in disgust yet? Surely he’d done enough to scare him away? None of his previous partners had stayed long enough to help him into bed, to cover him up and check he was okay.

When the heavy soothing weight of his blanket rested upon his skin, he sighed audibly, eyes fluttering shut, comforted by the pressure pushing him down into the mattress.

“I’ll head off now,” William whispered, the smile on his lips evident in his kind tone, “I’ll phone you tomorrow?”

“Stay?”

He hadn’t planned to say that, why did he say that? Whatever made him think William would actually want to spend any more time with him? Even if he was, somehow, still unbothered by the Captain’s behaviour, seemed (astoundingly) concerned about him and his welfare and didn’t seem to be put-off by his comfort items. Why on earth would the man spend another second in his presence?

“Of course,” William replied easily, almost as if he were hoping the Captain might ask, “Do you want me with you or would you rather I stay in the living room?”

Shyly, the Captain lifted the duvet, unable to put words to what he wanted.

Without a single second of hesitation, the Lieutenant carefully untied his shoes, removed his jacket and slipped in alongside the Captain – face-to-face.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes, it’s… nice,” the Captain confessed, “I hope the weighted blanket isn’t too unpleasant for you?”

“No, it’s not unpleasant. It’s unusual, that’s for sure, but I can understand how it would be relaxing,” William grinned, before motioning towards the Captain’s crop, “Is that your stim item?”

Blinking, the Captain nodded bashfully as his fingers curled reflexively around the aforementioned stick, “You… Don’t seem bothered by any of this? In fact, you seem to be quite knowledgeable, and… understanding.”

“Well of course. You did tell me you had autism – I admit I didn’t know all that much, but I Googled it and read a few medical websites, tried to learn as much as I could. I read an interesting article on sensory overloads, but it still took me a while to realise you were having one… Sorry about that.”

Feeling moisture fill his eyes, the Captain furiously blinked away the sensation – tears clinging to his eyelashes as he considered the man before him, “You researched autism? You read about it?”

“Well of course, it’s a part of you, so I wanted to make sure I understood it – so I could understand you. Didn’t your previous partners do the same?”

Closing his eyes as he felt stray tears trickle down his cheeks, the Captain allowed a smile to dance along his lips before meeting gazes with the Lieutenant directly, “No. No, they didn’t.”

The Lieutenant regarded him silently, his expression (if the Captain was reading him correctly) seemed upset, for some inexplicable reason.

“Can I hold you?” William whispered, hands lifting but not yet touching the man until he received his explicit permission.

“Yes, that would be nice.”

With the Captain’s consent, William wrapped his arms tightly around the other – holding the Captain’s head to his chest as he rested his lips atop his silvering hair. The Captain let himself nuzzle against the Lieutenant as his eyes fluttered to a close, and he fell asleep with – for the time in his life - happiness and acceptance in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> So random inspiration hit me after reading Jas, Nan and Wheel's shared headcanon idea on Discord about Cap having dated many men before Havers, but none of them understood or could deal with Cap's sensory overloads/anxiety and Havers being the first and only to accept Cap exactly as he is.
> 
> I wrote this at midnight a few days ago when I really should have been sleeping, so not sure if up to my usual standard. (If one can suggest such a thing.)
> 
> I hardcore headcanon autistic!Captain, and yes, I am kinda projecting through him, but needs must.
> 
> This is a wee fic to see people over until I can find time to write the next chapter for Operation Christmas. Thank you!


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